


Newlybonded

by AnaMikala



Series: Scream to the Sky [2]
Category: Transformers: Prime, Transformers: Shattered Glass
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Gift Giving, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Morning After, Other, Seeker Trines, Spark Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-20
Updated: 2015-03-20
Packaged: 2018-03-18 17:36:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3578079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnaMikala/pseuds/AnaMikala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shattered Glass AU, epilogue to "Scream to the Sky." It's the morning after their bonding ceremony, and Megatron has a surprise for his new bondmate. Unapologetic fluff. Contains slash (MegaStar) and very briefly mentions sticky interfacing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Newlybonded

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, this is a Shattered Glass AU. Decepticons are good, Autobots are evil, and they have embers instead of sparks.
> 
> I own nothing. Hasbro does.

“Nng…"

Starscream’s vocalizer made a soft sound as he slowly awoke from recharge, his systems restarting one by one. First his processer came online, then his vents and fuel lines kicked into their daytime activity levels, then finally his sensornet, vocalizer, audial receptors, and optics. He reset his optics a few times as they came online, their blue light growing from a faint glow to a vibrant shine.

He was laying on his side, pressed up against another mech, a heavy arm curling around his waist and holding him in a protective embrace. That mech was still deep in his recharge cycle, optics closed and vents cycling slow and shallow. Starscream’s helm was close to his chestplates, and the seeker could hear the steady rhythm of his ember. It was an innately comforting sound; indeed, many doctors and scientists believed this stemmed from an emberling’s ability to hear their carrier’s ember sounds during gestation. It made a bot feel safe and secure.

Megatron was the mech recharging next to Starscream, and this was Megatron’s berth.

 _It’s my berth now, too_ , Starscream reminded himself, recalling the previous cycle. He had consorted with the Decepticon commander for several orbital cycles now, and this was hardly the first time he had awoken in the other mech’s embrace. There was always his home back in Vos, however, regardless of how much of his time he spent living in Kaon with his lovemate.

But now they were bondmates, and Vos was destroyed. This was his home now.

Grief tried to well up as he thought of his beloved city, now burned to ashes by the Autobots. He ruthlessly pushed it down, choosing to focus instead on the happier part of his previous thought.

He and Megatron were now bonded, mated for life and beyond. The ceremony was yestercycle, a combination of Vosnian and Kaonian traditions. The entire city celebrated with them. Megatron was held in high regard by the citizenry, and Starscream was also well-known and liked. The seekers—who were becoming less like refugees and more like a part of Kaon with every groon—contributed to the festivities, of course. The bonding of their beloved winglord was a special occasion, indeed.

In this time of war, there seemed to be fewer and fewer reasons to celebrate as the orns went on. Megatron and Starscream’s bonding had been a welcome reprieve.

Starscream smiled as he remembered. For a cycle, the Decepticons and the Seekers could pretend that there was no war. He could hardly begrudge them their need to make merry. There were far too few opportunities to do so as of late.

He checked his internal chronometer. He didn’t usually rise until a little later in the cycle, but he was already wide awake. He may as well get up now.

A soft sound escaped his vocalizer as he began to move. He was suddenly aware of a lingering sensation in his lower abdomen, as well as a clingy, sticky feeling between his thighs. It was a familiar experience, and not one unexpected or unwelcome. It was the aftermath of their interfacing. Their relationship was a passionate one, and the night of their bonding was no exception. Now not only did they have a physical connection, but a spiritual and mental one as well. Merging embers was a vague approximation of a bond, and they had engaged in that many times, but nothing prepared Starscream for just how deeply he would feel things now that he and his berthmate were truly bound to one another.

He had heard stories of interfacing becoming a whole new experience after bonding, and he now knew those stories to be true. Everything was magnified. Physical desire and response were enhanced with the rest of it, but Starscream experienced the greatest change in the spiritual aspects. More of Megatron’s ember was open to him during merging, and he knew that more of himself was in turn open to Megatron. It was a deeper, more complete union, for now they weren’t just merging their feelings and thoughts, but their souls themselves.

If what he had experienced before was pleasure, than last night was bliss. Even now he could feel Megatron in his ember, the bigger mech’s presence surrounding and permeating his core. It was the bond, the permanent connection between them. It soothed Starscream’s ember, still raw from the deaths of his trinemates, beginning to fill the ragged holes left behind by the breaking of his trinebond with Skywarp and Thundercracker.

Though it would be a long time before he was truly healed from such profound loss, it was a start. Megaton had taken some of Starscream’s pain upon himself, offering his own strength to help in the seeker’s recovery. Bonding his ember to Starscream’s broken one must have been unpleasant, to say the least. It was testimony to his love that he did so without hesitation. Starscream was precious to the former gladiator, and he’d be damned to the Pit before he let anything so trivial as his own discomfort get in his way.

Starscream sometimes found himself wondering how he could possibly deserve such untainted devotion.

Carefully maneuvering himself out of Megatron’s embrace—he was well practiced at this, as he regularly awoke before the bigger mech—Starscream relished the lingering feelings in his lower chassis, a jumble of recent memory files clamoring for his attention, all of them pleasant. His bondmate was an excellent lover, emberbond or not.

Finally extricating himself from Megatron, Starscream rose from the berth. He reached up above his head in a full-chassis stretch, his backstrut arching and his wings fanning out behind him. His pedes stood up on their tiptoes, every cable and hydraulic extending to their fullest, expelling the stiffness left over from recharge. His vents cycled a yawn, intakes opening wide.

Finished with his stretch, Starscream made his way to the washracks. His heeled pedes clicked on the smooth metal floor, and a memory suddenly came to him. It was of Megatron smiling, teasing him good-naturedly about his “dainty” way of walking. Starscream had stuck his glossa out at him, sniping that when everything about you was designed for the air, your pedes tended to lose out in the size and strength departments. Grounders, and hidden-wings like Megatron, tended to be much bulkier than aerials, of which the seekers were the most lightly-built. Their specialty was speed and agility, and their physiology reflected that.

Starscream turned the washracks on and stepped under the cascade of solvent, cycling a sigh as the warm liquid sluiced down over his chassis. His weariness was quickly washed down the drain, as were the remnants of last night’s activities with Megatron. A dirty little part of him mourned this loss, though the bigger part of him welcomed the refreshing feeling a good cleaning brought him.

The solvent delivered by the building’s pipes, as well as the personal care products on the shelf built into the wall, were of middling quality. They were in the midst of a war, however; materials and labor had been redirected to the fight against the Autobots. Megatron had chosen to set an example and limited his personal consumption to what he needed and nothing more, not just in the washracks but in every aspect of his life. They just couldn’t afford fancy indulgences at this time, and if the common bot had to do without, Megatron felt the leadership should, as well. His stance wasn’t shared by all of his peers, but there was little he could do about that. They would eventually come around if this war lasted long enough. Maybe.

Starscream was of Vosnian royalty, and was used to very fine things, from energon to personal care products to decorations for his living quarters. But all that was gone now. There was no use clinging to the past; it would only hold him back in the long run. Part of him did miss the finery, but there was nothing to be done about it. If middle-quality products were what were available to him, then he would just have to make do. He could refuse to “lower his standards” and be miserable, or he could accept his current circumstances and adjust. He chose to adjust.

And besides all that, the products Megatron had stocked his washracks with were perfectly effective. That’s all that Starscream could really ask for or expect.

As he went about his routine of cleaning himself, Starscream replayed his memories of the bonding ceremony, feeling his lip-plates turn up in a soft smile. One of the highlights had been him meeting a youngling femme, no more than halfway to reaching her adult size, who had been watching him with obvious wonder. She had squeaked in terror when she realized she had caught his attention, and though she looked like she wanted to flee, she had allowed him to approach her and kneel down so they were on the same level. He had asked her name, and she had answered Starshine. She had been named after Starscream’s sister, his creators’ only femme offspring. Starscream had felt tears pricking his optics at the thought of his sister and the rest of his family unit, but outwardly he only smiled. This youngling had survived the destruction of Vos unhurt. To Starscream, she symbolized the seekers’ destiny as a people, their hope for the future. He had placed a kiss upon her forehelm and whispered a Vosnian prayer of happiness and prosperity, to the youngling’s bewilderment. He then relinquished her to her creators, who came running up then, bowing and apologizing for her “disturbing” their winglord. Starscream had only smiled and shook his head, then turned away, meaning to return to Megatron’s side.

Upon looking back, he saw Starshine still watching him, a smile now on her lip-plates.

 _Primus protect_ _her_ , he prayed silently, shutting off the flow of solvent, _and all younglings like her._

Megatron was awake when he exited the washracks. He reentered the berthroom to find his mate placing a cube of energon on the table near the window. Upon hearing Starscream, Megatron turned toward him and gave him a smile.

“Ah, you’re finally done,” the Decepticon commander said, his smile turning wry. “Took your sweet time in there, didn’t you?”

“It’s your fault,” Starscream said with mock exasperation, playing along. “You didn’t give me a moment’s rest last night.”

Megatron laughed. “If I recall, you weren’t exactly objecting to your treatment.”

“Oh, I wasn’t objecting,” Starscream purred, coming close to his mate, letting his electrical field fan out suggestively. “I wasn’t then, and I’m not now.”

“You always were a shameless flirt,” Megatron replied softly, letting his own field mingle with Starscream’s. His servos settled on the seeker’s slim hips, holding him close as the smaller mech wound his arms around Megatron’s neck, pulling him down for a kiss.

They remained that way for a little while, petting and caressing one another, occasionally whispering words of endearment. While their activities could very easily, and very quickly, escalate to full-on interfacing, they remained subdued, enjoying each other’s presence as much as each other’s touch. Their love for each other ran deeper than simple physical desire.

“While I would _love_ to be doing this with you all day, every day, that simply is not possible,” Megatron finally murmured, very gently putting some space between himself and Starscream. “Besides, your energon will get cold if you don’t drink it soon.”

“All right, all right,” Starscream sighed, letting go of his bondmate.

He sat down at the table as Megatron went into the washracks and began to sip at his energon. It was a routine. He would get up first, and by the time he was finished washing, Megatron would have a cube of energon warmed for him, which he would drink as Megatron took his turn in the washracks. Upon finishing his shower, Megatron would retrieve the cube he had left in the warmer for himself and join Starscream at the table. It was rare the routine was deviated from; even if Megatron was still fully in recharge when Starscream got up, he almost always had a cube of energon ready for the seeker when he was done washing. It was as if the sound of a running washracks reaching his audials was the signal for his processor to boot up.

Starscream stared out the window at the view that had become as familiar to him as the one from his berthroom balcony back in Vos. A melancholy slowly settled over him. While yestercycle had been wonderful, and had turned out as perfect as possible, there was still something missing, and glaringly so. Two somethings, in fact…

“Cybertron to Starscream,” a voice suddenly broke into his thoughts, making him jump. He turned, wide-opticked, to look at Megatron sitting across the table from him, a cube in his servos. Was he already finished? Starscream hadn’t even heard him come out of the washracks! He hadn’t been _that_ distracted, had he?

Apparently so.

“Are you all right, Starscream?” Megatron asked, expression concerned. “You look…sad.”

“Do I?” the seeker asked, though his mate’s statement didn’t surprise him in the least. He sighed when Megatron nodded, knowing there was no point in denying it. “Thundercracker and Skywarp,” he said quietly, getting straight to the point, “they would have been so happy for us.”

Megatron said nothing, but reached across the table and took Starscream’s servo in his own, squeezing reassuringly.

“I miss them,” Starscream continued, static in his voice. “I miss my creators, my siblings… _everyone_! So many…so many gone…” He shuttered his optics tightly, ocular lubricant beginning to pool at the inner corners, threatening to spill over. His vents hitched, cycling shakily.

“I know,” Megatron said quietly. He could feel Starscream’s sorrow through their bond, and he sent back a feeling of _I’m here, I’m with you_. “You’re not alone in this, Starscream. You were never alone.”

Starscream smiled thinly. “Thank you,” he whispered in Vosnian, reaching up to brush his tears away. One managed to escape, sliding down his cheekplate and dripping off his chin to fall into his energon with a _plip_.

“Anything for my bonded mate,” Megatron replied, smiling back encouragingly. This sending and receiving of feelings and thoughts through their bond was new and strange, but it was also something Megatron felt he could easily get used to. Despite the tragedy and sorrow of the past few groons, the profound, utter _joy_ he felt in his ember at being bonded to his beloved was beyond description, and he knew Starscream felt the same.

“I love you,” Starscream said, still speaking in his native language.

“And I love you,” Megatron replied in the seeker cant, then in the standard dialect he said, “I have something for you, too.”

Starscream reset his optics, surprised. “For me?”

Megatron nodded, standing and moving to Starscream’s side. “A bonding gift, if you will.”

“A _bonding gift?!_ ” Starscream exclaimed. “But we agreed not to—”

“Not to get each other anything, I know,” Megatron finished for him. Then he smiled. “You see, love, for once in my functioning, I lied.”

“Megatron, you shouldn’t have—” Again, Starscream was cut off, this time by his bondmate laying a digit over his lip-plates, shushing him.

“I did anyway,” Megatron said, “and I will hear no more argument from you.” He placed something on the table in front of Starscream that the seeker hadn’t seen him holding. It must have come from his subspace.

Starscream immediately turned his attention to it. It was a gray box, simple and nondescript. A single button was set into the center of the top surface. Pressing the button would either open the box or initiate a transformation. There wasn’t any indication on the box itself of which would happen. Starscream glanced back up at Megatron, then reached out and tapped the button.

The top of the box popped up as if on a spring, folding itself back against the side of the box, which then split from the sides adjacent to it and lowered itself down to lay flat against the table. The other three sides followed suit, the four squares of material and the base separating into several smaller segments, which rearranged themselves into a single, solid rectangle beneath the object the box had contained.

At first glance, it seemed like just a simple circular slab of metal, about the size of Starscream’s servo. The base of the object was larger than its upper surface, the sides tapering inward at a slight angle. Plain thought it looked, Starscream instantly recognized it for what it was.

A miniature hologram display.

Starscream turned questioning optics up at Megatron, who just smiled at him, urging him to activate it. The seeker needed no more encouragement, and he quickly located the on/off switch on the bottom, excitement fluttering in his ember.

The instant his digit touched the switch, the little slab began to transform. Three spherical feet stuck out from the bottom as Starscream set it down, and he quickly let go, not wanting to hinder the transformation. The tapered sides shifted, glyphs carving themselves into the slanted surface, and it only took Starscream a klick or two to recognize them as Vosnian. The display’s plating changed color, white trimmed with gold flowing over the gray-black until it covered the metal entirely, not a speck of the original color remaining.

Starscream’s ember clenched in nostalgia at the sight. The display was now the same colors that the imperial palace in Vos had once been. The colors of his home.

His family unit’s crest was taking shape over the top surface, as were finer patterns of Vosnian origin, which snaked around the main body of the crest and down over the sides, curling around and among the glyphs with stunning artistry. Once complete, the crest took on its proper colors of silver, red, and blue. The glyphs along the edge spelled out a common seeker blessing, one which Starscream had taken a particular liking to.

_May The Winds Take You Ever Higher, May The Stars Come Within Your Reach_

Starscream watched it transform, enchanted. He initially thought Megatron had had made for him a beautiful holograph display to remind him of his lost home, but once the transformation was complete, colored light began to coalesce above it. It seemed a picture file had already been loaded onto it.

He made a sound somewhere between joy and shock when the picture smoothed itself out, taking its final shape.

A miniature of two seekers now stood before him, two very familiar and dearly missed seekers.

It was Skywarp and Thundercracker. His trinemates stood tall and proud, their wings held high. They were angled toward each other, Skywarp resting his servo on Thundercracker’s shoulder, Thundercracker in turn bending his elbow so he could grasp Skywarp’s wrist. The touches spoke of familiarity and ease. Their expressions were happy, their smiles reflecting their personalities: Thundercracker was serene, Skywarp mischievous.

Starscream’s vents cycled shallowly as his optics drank in every detail. The image was _perfect_. It was if his trinemates themselves were standing there. But he didn’t remember them ever posing for such an image.

“H-how…?” was all he managed to say

“I was already having a holograph display made for you, possibly as a pledge gift,” Megatron explained. Pledge gifts were given to the mech or femme one intended to bond with, as a symbol of one’s love. The tradition was varied among cultures to the extent that it went anywhere from highly ritualized to almost absent. “But when Vos was destroyed, and we promised to bond, I wanted it to be more than just a pledge gift. I had the design altered to more reflect your home, and had the image loaded onto it, so it wasn’t just an empty display.”

“This image,” Starscream said, finally looking up at Megatron, “they never posed for it, did they? But it’s so perfect. _So_ perfect. How is it possible? Only images taken from real life are so detailed…aren’t they?”

“You have Shockwave and Soundwave to thank for that,” Megatron smiled. “Shockwave patched Soundwave into my processor, and Soundwave gathered images of them from my memory banks so he could create a three-dimensional model for each of them. The hologram was created from those models.”

“That’s…that’s amazing.” Even knowing how it was done, Starscream still could hardly believe it. Never before had he seen an artificial image so true to life. He reached for it, as if to touch the mechs that stood smiling at him, the tips of his digits disappearing into the hologram. “I…I don’t have anything for you.”

“You don’t need to,” Megatron assured him. “I have _you_. That is the greatest gift anyone could ever give me.”

“You…you’re too good to me…” Starscream murmured, his voice wavering as he began to tremble slightly. A tear trickled down his faceplate. “It’s beautiful, Megatron. It’s _perfect_. Thank you…!”

“Anything for my bonded mate,” Megatron said, repeating his words from earlier. He knelt down beside Starscream’s chair, taking the seeker’s servo into his own again. “Anything for you.”

_I love you._

**End**


End file.
